


Where I'm At

by DragonWrites



Series: Shooting Stars: A Series of Davenport & Lup Fics [3]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, PTSD, Rated T for swearing, References to Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 03:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15110552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonWrites/pseuds/DragonWrites
Summary: For ten years, Davenport was a body without a mind, and Lup was a mind without a body.  Afterwards, their respective coping methods aren't exactly…compatible.





	Where I'm At

**Author's Note:**

> I thank/blame the TFW Discord for this! People were really interested in seeing some explorations of Dav & Lup, and I woke up early one morning and this was in my head. And here we are. Enjoy!

It happened over family dinner, as abrupt and painful as a shot going off.  Things were going so well, the wine and conversation were flowing freely and Lup felt so _alive_ again.  She leaned over Barry from behind and wrapped her long arms around his shoulders, squeezing him, relishing the physical presence of him:  the warmth, the smell, the soft press of flesh against flesh through his shirt.  Kravitz made a dry joke, one dark eyebrow arched, and Taako snorted.  Even Davenport, visiting from the sea, seemed at ease, his early nervousness vanished.

(She had heard, through the family grapevine, that he sometimes stuttered or dropped words when he was nervous.  They had all collectively agreed not to point it out unless he wanted to bring it up himself, but so far he hadn't had a single slip all evening.  A good sign, she thought.)

"You know, Kravitz," said Cap'nport, "I admit, sometimes I look at you and see myself."

"Oh?"

He was grinning, a mischievous glint in his eye.  "A man of refined taste and serious disposition, saddled with these three chucklefucks.  You poor, poor man."

Lup snorted.  She reached down and put one hand over Davenport's.

He jerked his hand away, knocking over his wine glass.  He was halfway out of his chair, tail lashing, before she could blink.

The vibe in the dining room tensed like a muscle, everyone instantly on alert.  Wary instincts honed over countless decades screamed _Where's the fire, what's happening._   Davenport stared up at Lup, eyes wide as if she'd slapped him.

He cleared his throat and looked away.  "Uh, sorry about that," he said, quickly grabbing a napkin and sopping up the spreading spill.  "Shit, this is a nice tablecloth, I'm sorry, Taako—"

"Cap?"  Lup reached to lay a hand on his shoulder.  "Don't worry, we can—"

He jerked his shoulder out of the way.  _"No."_

Lup pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned.  She'd just wanted to see if he was okay.  She'd just wanted to make sure he was still _there_. 

He was breathing too quickly, his eyes were too wide.  He glanced up at her again, then gathered up his empty plate and silverware.  "I'll, uh, j-just put these in the, uh, the kitchen…" 

"No worries," said Taako, getting to his feet.  "We got that.  You just sit and relax—"

"No, no, I've got it, thanks."  And Davenport hurried out of the room.

The dining room fell silent a second time.  Lup squeezed Barry's shoulders again, pressed her face into the back of his neck.  Felt herself breathe, in and out, in and out.

"Uh, is he okay?" asked Barry in a low voice.  "Should we, uh, check on him?"

Taako rolled his eyes.  "'Course he's not okay," he growled.  "None of us are."

Barry frowned.  Kravitz put a hand over Taako's.

After a few minutes, Davenport still hadn't returned from the kitchen.  The conversation had picked up again, muted, but Lup kept glancing over at the kitchen door, an uneasy feeling in her gut.

"I'm gonna go check on him," she said, reluctantly disentangling herself from Barry.  She took the long way around the table so she could pass by Kravitz and Taako on the way, giving the former a comradely pat on the shoulder and the latter a quick kiss on the top of his head.  Then she was sailing in the empty space between the members of her family, feeling loose and untethered, like a squirrel leaping from a tree branch and hoping to land on another tree branch before she hit the ground.

Davenport wasn't in the kitchen.  The back door was unlocked and slightly ajar.  A cool night breeze drifted in and curled around her ankles.  She followed the draft out onto the back patio.  Her skin tingled in the fresh, sweet-smelling night air.

Davenport stood on the patio, shoulders hunched and arms folded tightly across his chest, as if he were huddled against a chilly breeze.  He was staring off into the meadow behind the house, where the dew glinted silver in the bright moonlight.

"Hey, Cap," she said.

"H-hey," he said.  He ran one hand through his hair.  "Sorry, just needed some fresh air."

"No, it's all good," she said. 

Lup had known Davenport for a hundred years, and every line of his body told her he didn't want to be touched right now.  She understood it on that deep sympathetic level that only happens when you're stuck living on a boat with the same six people for a century.  And this was some weird _déjà vu_ , some classic Early Cap'nport, back before he'd mellowed and stopped closing himself off.  She hadn't seen him this rigid in over fifty years.

But there was something in her that overrode all that hard-earned knowledge, some desperate need to tell herself that he was there and, more importantly, _she_ was there.  Without thinking, she opened her arms and went in for a hug.

"No!" he snapped, dancing back out of reach.  "D-don't--Lup, please don't."  He held his hands up, as if to block an attack.

Lup stared at him in shock.  No, this wasn't Early Cap'nport.  This was _worse_.  The hunched, defensive posture; the wary eyes.  She'd seen that look a hundred times but never on him. 

But during her long, rough childhood, on the road with Taako?  She knew that look all too well.

She gripped the porch railing, fingers squeezing the wood, just to hold onto something as her thoughts spun.  Lucy would never have hurt Davenport, not like that.  Sure, she gave him a mind-wedgie so bad his personality turned inside-out, but afterwards?  She would've treated him like fine fucking china.  What little glimpses Lup had caught of him through the umbrella, he'd seemed happy, his hard lines softened by good eating and a secure life far from the harrowing pressures of the Mission.

But ten years was a long time.  Anything could've happened.  Lucy might've had to leave Davenport with a caretaker while she ran off to track down a relic.  He would've been helpless.

"Cap," she said softly, choosing her words very carefully, "when you were…away, did somebody hurt you?  Because if they did, just give me a name and I will personally turn them to ash."

His wide eyes narrowed in confusion.  "What?"  He rubbed his temple with the heel of one hand, a habit he'd picked up during the Lost Decade.  "N-no, Lup, it's not that!  Nothing like that happened.  I mean, my memory's still a little foggy, but I'm p-pretty sure I would've remembered that."  He frowned, looked away.  "I remember the th-things that scared me."

Lup sighed.  "Well, that's good.  I mean, not the remembering-the-scary-parts.  That's shitty.  But, I'm glad you weren't hurt.  Like that, I mean."

"No, it's fine.  I'll say this for Lucretia, she…did her best to take care of me.  She made a lot of sacrifices to make sure I was comfortable."  A bitter twist appeared on his lips.  "Short of giving me my damn mind back, of course."

He fell silent again.  She suspected he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to start.  She waited, giving him time, squeezing the railing to keep herself grounded.  Felt the smooth grain of the wood.  Relished the feel of cool air on the skin of her arms.  _I'm here_ , she told herself.  _I'm here._

"Lup," he said after a moment had passed, "when you were…in the umbrastaff, did you feel…"  He hesitated, arms wrapped tight around his chest, as if to hold himself together.  "Did you feel…laid bare?  Just…vulnerable and helpless, being carried around as an object like that?"

She looked at him.  "Yes, _exactly!"_ she said, delighted that someone finally _got it_ , horrified that it was Davenport.

His cheeks flushed.  He sighed, eyes resolutely on the patio floor.  "I was so…unmoored.  Lucretia was the only sure, stable thing in my life, other than my own name.  She was my anchor.  As long as I could see her, _feel_ her, hear her voice calling me, I was okay.  I was _safe._ "  He frowned, lost in his memories.  "I clung to her like a terrified toddler.  You didn't see it, but I didn't really have…boundaries with her.  She held me when I was scared, brushed my hair, led me by the hand when I forgot where I was.  I'd sit next to her on the couch and just…press myself against her side, just to feel her humming through her whole body."  He ran his hands through his hair, paced in a tight circle in the patio corner as if he wanted to run somewhere but wasn't sure which direction to go.  "Gods, Lup, I _needed_ her!  I didn't know who I _was_ , outside of my name and my relationship to her."

She took a deep breath, forced her grip to loosen on the railing before she gave her hands a cramp.  "I think I get that," she said.  "So now you're trying to figure out where the world ends and you begin.  You're not an extension of Lucy.  You're not that potted plant, or the dinette set."  She tilted her head at the small table and four chairs set out beneath the patio's awning, a housewarming gift from Magnus.

He gave her a weak, slightly nauseous smile.  "No, the plant and the dinette set aren't Davenport."

"Nope!  You're Davenport, the one and only, and nothing and nobody else comes close."

He drew himself up into the confident posture she knew so well.  "I am Captain Davenport, formerly of the IPRE Starblaster, now of the S.S. Stargazer.  I'm a bond engineer and ace pilot, I love mangos and opera, and I absolutely detest wet socks and bureaucracy."

She raised an eyebrow.  "You do that a lot now?" she asked, unable to prevent a small smirk from showing.  "'Cause that sounds practiced as hell."

He blushed.  "It's, ah…part of my daily meditations," he admitted.  "I change it up, try to remember more things about myself."

"No, no, I dig it!  It's rad." 

They fell silent again, but this time it was slightly more comfortable.

"I think," she said, when the silence and her thoughts had had time to settle, "where you were, that's where I'm at right now.  I love having my body back, but I still sometimes feel like I'm drifting loose.  I just need to remind myself I'm physically _here_ , you know?"  She stared at the palm of her hand, eyes tracing the delicate lines of her skin.

Davenport looked up at her.  "Oh," he said, voice quiet.  "Lup, I…didn't realize."

"No, it's cool!  I haven't really talked about it, and you've more than fucking earned the right to focus on yourself for once.  But that's why I've been super touchy-feely lately.  I'm sorry for, like, throwing myself on you when you weren't ready."

He ran a hand over his face.  "Lup, I'm sorry you're going through that.  That's…rough."  He took a deep breath and let it out.  "Okay.  Well, I'm not leaving for another couple days.  If you want, maybe tomorrow we can make some time and I can tell you some of the methods that helped me stay grounded.  Maybe something can help you, for the times when you might not have someone to hold onto."

"Cap, I would _love_ that," she said.  "But only if you are.  I don't want you doing that thing again where you drop your own needs in favor of looking after the rest of us.  I'm a big girl now, and you're super retired, with plenty of your own shit to deal with."

He chuckled.  "We're family, Lup.  A big, messy, fucked-up family.  If we can't rely on each other to hold us up, who else would we turn to?  Who else would even put up with us?"

She snickered. 

"Hey," he said, the lightness leaving his voice.  "Look, I know this'll probably come off as overly formal and…inadequate, and I apologize in advance for that.  But…"  And he held out one hand to her.  "I think this is where I'm at right now." 

She smiled.  She slipped her hand around his, relishing the feel of skin on callused skin.  His hand was warm, his grip firm.  She thought she sensed a slight tremble, but his hand was mostly steady.

He hesitated, and put his other hand on top of their clasped hands.  She raised her other hand, checking his face for permission.  He nodded.  She set her other hand on top of his.

They stood for a moment in silence, all four hands held together.  Lup closed her eyes.  She was here.  They were both here. 

Soon the smell of coffee drifted out from the kitchen, and Lup heard Taako's voice gently calling her.  She glanced at Davenport, who nodded.  An easy smile had returned to his face. 

"We're coming in," she replied.  Their hands slid apart, but the memory of the contact lingered on her skin, an impression of a shared bond neither of them would lose again.

They walked in together, side by side.

**Author's Note:**

> I will honestly fill the Davenport & Lup tag myself if I have to.


End file.
